Desert Fire (Legend and Lore Book 3) (8 page)

Brand sank to the floor once the door had creaked shut, weak from the trauma his body had gone through. He wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling them up against his chest. He rested his forehead against his kneecaps, his mind churning with everything that had happened. Everything he wanted to happen, but which he could no longer have, because Kamoor and Khatlah belonged together, and Brand was just an outsider.
 

He would have to leave. If the king ever let him out, that was. No matter what was decided, Brand was done. Completely done.
 

Brand groaned as he was forcefully shoved forward and down. Glancing to his side, he saw that the guards were decidedly more respectful towards both Kamoor and Sarab. They knelt on the floor without having to be forced down, and the guards had barely even touched them as they’d been guided them up into the palace proper.
 

They were in the audience chamber of the king. Brand dared a look up and saw a man, very plain looking, but decidedly related to both Khatlah and Sakoptari, sitting on a raised dais. A man he did not know, but who also must be related stood at his other side and on the other, the one closest to Brand, stood Khatlah. His dark eyes locked with Brand’s for a moment and a tiny smile flickered across his lips for the briefest moment. Brand couldn’t bring himself to smile back, because he did not know what that smile meant or even what was going to happen to him.
 

“My youngest son has told me of what transpired in the Border Mountains,” the king spoke up. He related the tale they had told Khatlah in short, clipped words. “Is this true?”
 

“Yes, your majesty.” Kamoor bowed his head. “Every word of it is true, I swear on my life and that of my dragon.”
 

Sarab also bowed his head as the king looked his way. “I too swear on my life and that of my dragon that it is true.”
 

The king’s eyes turned to Brand last. “You are not of the desert,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “And as such, your words hold no power here, but Commander Kamoor and Sarab are trusted men and I believe their word. They are cleared of all charges, as are you, but you are hereby banished from my land.”
 

Brand closed his eyes as the verdict fell, taking it calmly.

“Father!” Khatlah exclaimed. “He has done nothing wrong!”
 

“He came here a prisoner, accused of slaying dragons,” the king argued.
 

“But he did not!” Khatlah yelled. “You cannot banish someone who hasn’t done anything wrong! That is unjust!”
 

“Why are you standing up for an outsider?” The king’s voice was rising as well, anger spilling through. “You know how we feel about outsiders, Khatlah! The ones we have let into our fold we have done so with utmost care. You know nothing about this man!”
 

“No one can know everything there is to know about someone!” Desperation was clouding Khatlah’s voice and Brand looked up at him in surprise. Why would Khatlah fight for him like this? “But I do know that this man has never hurt a dragon and I know he helped Commander Kamoor get rid of the slayers, which is our greatest threat! He helped, Father! I also know that he has no one and no home to go to! So if anyone we have ever let in deserves to stay here, he does!”

“Your son is right,” Kamoor spoke up, and he rose smoothly to his feet, facing the king. “Brand has been a great help. His special abilities were the only reason we managed to get all those men. Perhaps the only reason both me and Sarab are still alive. Those men hunted us, and they would’ve got us if it hadn’t been for Brand. I use my right as commander of the dragon riders to vote for him being allowed to stay.”
 

Khatlah sent Kamoor a look Brand could not quite decipher before turning back to his father. “Please, Father... Let him stay.”
 

The king stared hard at Kamoor, and Kamoor met his gaze straight on. “I trust your judgment, Commander. If you say this man is to be trusted I will take you at your word. He is allowed to stay.”
 

Khatlah let out a relieved sigh, then in a flurry of movement he jumped down off the dais and embraced Brand tightly, burrowing his face against Brand’s neck. Brand could see Kamoor looking at them from the corner of his eye, but he turned away without a word. Brand felt sorry for him, for he knew that Kamoor still loved Khatlah, but at that moment he couldn’t care less, because Khatlah was clinging to him, like no one ever had, and it felt good, and Brand could not help but wrap his own arms around Khatlah’s waist, bringing him closer, tighter. The wound in his side throbbed, but not even that could trouble him.
 

All that mattered was that he was actually allowed to stay, and that Khatlah was hugging him in joy. The thought of actually leaving had already flown from his mind, replaced by nothing but happiness.
 

“What is it about this man that kept you alive, Commander?” the king questioned. “He does not have the look of a warrior. You could’ve easily bested him.”
 

“I could,” Kamoor agreed, “if you only look at what you see on the outside, but this man has something special about him... something that gave us quite the advantage in the woodlands.”
 

“And what is that?” The king bent forward in his seat, his voice demanding an answer.

Khatlah pulled back a little so that he could turn his head to watch his father, but he stayed very close to Brand and his arms did not unwind completely from around his neck.
 

“If you have noticed his strange eyes, they are the eyes of the wolf-creature that lives in the woods,” Kamoor told him. “He is able to shift his form into that of the wolf-creature, and as such his senses are much better than ours. He is also able to create and manipulate fire with his mind, and when he does that, his eyes change to the colour of flames.”
 

The king’s eyes cut from Kamoor to Brand. “You really can create flames? Show me.”
 

Brand did not even think about disobeying the order. The king had just allowed him to stay, and as such he deserved to know what Brand was. Brand lifted his hand and flipped it over, curling his fingers up as he called forth a small ball of flame. It hovered above his palm, and the flames played around Brand’s fingers, hot to the touch to anyone but him.
 

“That is remarkable.” The king leaned back, one hand going to his chin as he regarded Brand.
 

“Father...” Khatlah’s voice was full of warning. “Whatever it is you’re planning right now, this is not the time or the day for it.”
 

The king sobered at the reminder. “You are right, my son. Another day, then.” He nodded to each of them in turn. “You are all dismissed. Except Khatlah.”
 

“I’ll be out soon,” Khatlah whispered to Brand. “I’ll come find you.”
 

Brand turned and exited the audience chamber alongside Kamoor and Sarab.
 

“Care to join us on the roof?” Kamoor glanced at him briefly.
 

Brand only nodded, following the two men silently.
 

Without Khatlah pressed up against him his mind was once again thinking clearly—and it was doubting, but he was going to take things as they came, at least until his wound had healed.
 

They emerged on the roof to the most beautiful view Brand had ever seen. The sun was setting in the horizon, leaving the land in an orange glow.
 

He watched Kamoor and Sarab approach their dragons, greeting them with a clap to their necks. Besides the injured youngling that lay curled up across the roof, those two were currently the only dragons there.
 

“Where is Sakoptari’s dragon?” Brand asked the question hesitantly, but he was curious about what happened to a dragon when their rider died.
 

“Her rider is dead. She has no ties here anymore. She’s gone.” Sarab was the one to answer, and he sounded genuinely sad about it. “It is quite sad, because she was a fine dragon.”
 

“Does a dragon only have one rider in a lifetime?” Brand questioned quietly.
 

“Some choose a second rider. It depends on how the first rider dies and how well the dragon can handle that death. Not being able to be ridden by your rider ever again... it is hard on the dragons. Just like it is hard on us to lose a loved one.”
 

Brand nodded that he’d heard, not knowing what to reply because it sounded like Sarab knew what it was like to lose a loved one. When he looked over at Kamoor Brand saw that Kamoor was staring at Sarab in surprise.
 

Kamoor had been quiet through it all, not saying a single word, and Brand felt his gut squeeze. Kamoor had lost one loved one, and he had no chance to reclaim the other one because Brand was stealing him away.
 

Turning away from them, Brand went over to the injured youngling. It lay quietly as he sat down next to it, but it was awake. One big, yellow eye looked at him. Brand placed one hand on the dragon’s hind leg, splaying his finger over the hard, white scales.
 

“She’ll be colouring soon,” Kamoor spoke up from above him.
 

Brand looked up at him, surprised Kamoor had even followed him. “Colouring?”
 

“Younglings are always white,” Kamoor explained, crouching down to stroke the dragon over the muzzle. “They do not colour until they reach the first stage of adulthood, though in bright sunlight they shimmer, like they are all colours at the same time. But they will not decide upon a colour until they become an adult.”
 

“And when will that be?” Brand questioned.
 

“When they are ready to mate.” Kamoor stroked down the dragon’s neck. “This one should’ve coloured by now, she’s big to be a youngling. But sometimes they take their time, just like humans. She doesn’t know what she wants or who she wants.”
 

“What do you mean by that?” Brand asked curiously.
 

“Dragon’s mate for life. It is a complicated process to find a life-mate, because they have to be a complete match. They have to even each other out, and it is not easy to know who you are when you are just a youngling with no colour.” Kamoor gently navigated his fingers in-between the spikes going down the youngling’s spine. “She is hurt still, but when she’s healed... She’ll be on her way.”
 

“She’ll leave, just like that?” Brand did not like that. He felt attached to the dragon, though he could not really say why. She was the first dragon he had ever seen, so perhaps that was the reason.
 

“They all leave eventually, unless they bond with a rider.” Kamoor’s hands went over to carefully check the bandages.
 

“Who is your dragon’s mate?” Brand asked, his eyes going to the enormous red beast standing across the roof.
 

“No one.” Kamoor did not look up from the bandages. “He coloured early, but he never mated. It is a rare occurrence—but then Atesh is a rare dragon.”
 

The dragon of the commander. That was rare—but Brand did not think that was what Kamoor was talking about.
 

The door leading up to the roof opened and closed, grabbing Brand’s attention. Khatlah stepped out on the roof, his light clothing and head-cloth easily recognizable. He had caught Kamoor’s attention as well, and Kamoor stared at him until Khatlah turned their way. Then Kamoor stood up, and with a nod to Brand he turned and stalked back to his dragon.
 

Khatlah glanced at him briefly before looking back at Brand, a small smile tugging at his lips as he approached.
 

“Did it go well with your father?” Brand asked worriedly. He stood up and waited for Khatlah to reach him.
 

“Yes.” Khatlah stopped only inches from him, just so that they barely touching. “He showed some concern for me when it comes to you, but I assured him that I am perfectly capable of living my own life.”
 

Brand sobered right up at that. “You shouldn’t be with me,” he told him quietly. “You should be with Kamoor.”
 

Khatlah turned serious as well then and he turned slightly to cast a look at Kamoor. “I loved Kamoor,” he said, voice just as quiet as Brand’s. “A small part of me always will, but there is too much anger, resentment and bitterness between us that will never go away, so the best we can hope for is to become friends.” He turned back to Brand, dark eyes sincere. “I do not want Kamoor anymore. All I want is you, Brand. I love you. It might be early to say it, considering we only met days ago, but there it is. I love you and I want to be with you and I am under the impression that you want to be with me, too, unless I am sorely mistaken?”
 

Brand felt his gut squeeze tight, in a way both painful and thrilling, but the beat of powerful wings brought his attention over Khatlah’s shoulder. They watched as Sarab’s green dragon rose into the sky, followed by Kamoor’s red one, both with their riders atop them. The wind created by those powerful wings hit them hard, making Brand’s red hair fly around his face. It also disrupted Khatlah’s head-cloth, and Brand could see a lock of dark hair inside.
 

The dragons rose quickly in the sky and soon glided away, leaving Brand and Khatlah alone on the roof with the injured youngling. Brand turned his gaze back to Khatlah, who was already looking up at him. “You are not mistaken,” he whispered. “Not at all.”
 

A smile slowly spread on Khatlah’s lips again and he took the last step, bringing himself flush up against Brand. His hands travelled up Brand’s chest and finally settled on the back of his neck. “You need a new start in life, as do I. We can move on together,” Khatlah murmured, leaning in closer. “We can make a new life for ourselves right here, or anywhere, for that matter. I just want to be with you. You have brightened up my life like you wouldn’t believe, like no one ever has.”